Although I had resolutely continued to knock on wood as well as plastic, metal and concrete in hopes of preserving my intenstinal unbeaten streak of over two months, Banaras, that holiest of holy Hindu cities abreast the mother Ganga, was my downfall. A scant two days in and I was sucker punched (in the gut of course) and moaning like a baby. The next five days included a dizzying (literally) array of symptoms, many ill advised attempts to get out of the imprisoning (but cool) AC hotel room to see a site or two on the hopeful sentiment that I was "feling a bit better", and much self-pity. I even got a bedside visit from an Indian doctor. Of all the cliched cliches in the annals of travel writing, surely the Delhi-belly trope takes a peculiar pride of place. This leaves me grasping a bit - I really was sick, after all, and though even my own experience of sickness itself felt somehow invaded by the wholly typical nature of the event, I still ran to the bathroom with a quite genuine and deeply felt emotion. No matter - Im sure no one is really craving details, and I am happy enough to let it stand at that, though I will note that any principled dislike of antibiotics is sorely tested and rather quickly abandoned in the face of certain challenges from the vast population of Indian microbes.  

Thanks to my intestinal visitation, impressions of Banaras were thus mostly of a reasonably safe and comforting hotel room where plain rice and toast and water and protection from the elements were all obtainable counterposed to a forbidding city where temperatures skied 45 celcius in the sun and a nasty wind whipped all manner of dust and debris and the odd spec of fecal matter into your eyes, which were themselves hopefully covered by the locally favored gumcha, a sort of all purpose cloth used for head covering and mouth protection and general stylishness (the Indian thneed?). The city is indeed a fascinating metropolis, full of cycle rickshaws and pilgrims and winding gullys and of course the famous burning ghats, which look truly hellish baking in 45 degree heat, and everywhere the sight or the sense of the Ganga. But it is also crowded and very dirty and kind of oppressive in the way that north Indian cities can be, all things which are tolerated and even occasionally appreciated on good days, but which are difficult to bare under conditions of personal duress.

We came to Varanasi for a classical music festival at a local Hanuman temple and even through sickness were not dissapointed - the city is famous for its musicians and connoseuirs and some of the performances were spectacular. As is often the case, the fabulous tabla was the main attraction. Also managed on an overly optimistic day to make it to Sarnath, the site of the Buddha's first sermon in which he advises his former comrades in asceticism that on his newly rediscovered middle way it would be all right for them to eat a bit more regularly and maybe also take a bath or two. Once they got over the shock of heterodoxy, this probably sounded pretty appealing, and well, we all know the rest of that story. Sarnath has two stupas (large domes housing relics of the Buddha), one old (7th century AD) and one really old (sometime BC) and since these were the first stupas I have seen, I was pretty excited.

I have sinced escaped the Gangetic plains and am enjoying the very cool, laid back populations and occasional stunning Himalayan views available in that favorite British hill station, Darjeeling. It is impossible not to hand it to the Brits for their mastery of the cute frame cottage, and Darjeeling is in general a really precious sort of place, somehow European in a way but in any event certainly a huge departure from the Ganfetic plains. The people here are Himalayan in origin and the tourists are mostly Bengali and the mix is far more mellow and relaxing. The temperature is cool and often cloudy/misty but when the sun comes out you kind of can't believe how beautiful the green tea filled hills are and you walk for hours up and down enjoying the historical accident that makes this place part of India. Not that I don't miss the undeniable excitement and vigour and energy found in the plains, but it is certainly nice to have a break.